


Estranged and All Alone (Act I)

by actingwithportals



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Child Death, Gen, Ghost refers to themself without a name, Ghost uses they/them pronouns, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Pre-Canon, the Abyss is not a good time you guys, the body horror is light but just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24225247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actingwithportals/pseuds/actingwithportals
Summary: The darkness called them awake, and the light called them to rise.But the others called them a home.And there could be no greater call than this.(Bad Things Happen Bingo fill 5: Childhood Trauma)
Relationships: The Knight & Siblings (Hollow Knight)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722943
Comments: 15
Kudos: 161





	Estranged and All Alone (Act I)

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a flashback to Ghost's beginnings to help catch them up in the events of this speculative post-game series. Their story will be told in two parts, so be on the lookout for Act II!
> 
> [Edit: Title comes from the song The Void by Muse]

In the beginning there was nothing, and then from that nothingness came the dark.

They weren’t scared of the dark, not at first. For it was the dark that brought them awake. And when they woke, that beginning brought them others.

The others were like them. Small, bodies black as the dark, and masks that were something entirely else. Every mask was different, but they knew somehow that they and the others were in a way all the same. Where that sameness began and where it ended, however, they couldn’t be sure.

For example, they weren’t all the same size. Some were small – like they were – while others looked to have grown, if only a little. They liked to watch the bigger ones, because something about them made a thing in the darkness that composed their body feel rippled, as if with anticipation. Maybe they would grow like that too. They thought they would like that.

But there weren’t many of the bigger ones, and it wasn’t long before they realized why.

The bigger ones told them many things. They told them that they were siblings, and that meant they belonged together, and should protect each other. They also said that this place where the siblings lived was called _the Abyss_ , and that it was their home. They didn’t speak, not with words, but the darkness inside of them could convey meanings that they all understood. It was helpful. They said too that the Abyss wasn’t only theirs, however, that the dark lake within – the void, as it was called – owned this place, and they were all here because of it.

Maybe they wouldn’t have minded that at first, would have felt comfort in the emptiness of the void’s darkness. But the Abyss wasn’t just home to it and their siblings.

For broken siblings lived here too.

Most of the broken ones were bigger, but sometimes a broken sibling would be small, just like them. It was easy to get broken, the bigger ones would say. The Abyss was full of many dangers; spikes that lined the walls and were longer than they were, the pools around the void lake that churned and thrashed whenever a sibling would get too close, unrestrained by the glowing illumination that shone only over the main body of the lake itself and kept it still, the crawling things that would sooner run a sibling over than stop for them.

And there was the climb.

It wasn’t always there, that brightness that was so antithetical to everything the void’s darkness contained. But sometimes a light would illuminate the central chamber of the Abyss from far above – similar to the light over the lake, but greater somehow, with a voice that did not speak through the darkness but through sound – and when that light reached down and called for them, the siblings would answer.

They wouldn’t all go, not all at once. The bigger siblings were usually the only ones that could make the climb. The cracked and spike-riddled platforms that lead a way to the light above were a treacherous sight, and an even more formidable tactility. They knew this; every sibling learned early on that the climb was the most threatening part of their home.

Every sibling wanted to attempt that climb.

Almost every sibling that did became broken.

It scared them when they saw the first body fall. It churned their insides when the crunch of their void-laden chitin made contact with the Abyss floor. It sent them into a panic when they saw some of the bigger ones pick up the body and half of the sibling’s mask fell to the floor, releasing a frenzied shadow of their former self.

The bigger siblings tore the shadow apart, and the void retreated once more into the floor to rejoin the lake. Shades, they were called, and though all siblings carried one within, they weren’t their companions.

The second time a body fell, they got sick. The third time they wept. Eventually they had to stop counting the number. Some siblings would survive the fall, ones who had managed to catch ahold of something on their way down, or ones who hadn’t made it high enough for a fall to be fatal to begin with. But even some of the nearly broken siblings would attempt again.

The light high above commanded it.

Those siblings usually didn’t survive a second fall.

They could hear the call just as well as every other sibling, but after burying the thirteenth one that cycle, they were starting to think they didn’t want to answer. The void was dangerous and volatile, but it commanded nothing of them. It welcomed them to stay in the dark, as long as the dark was respected. The light commanded everything, and it gave the broken siblings no pity.

The light wasn’t home, and it offered no comfort.

The bigger ones told them the light would free them, that it would let them out of the Abyss, and that was why they all climbed. But they didn’t think they wanted to be freed. The Abyss might have been scary, but it was their home, and it wouldn’t hurt them if they didn’t hurt it. Unfortunate accidents aside, only the climb broke siblings. If they didn’t climb, they wouldn’t break. They didn’t want to see more siblings break.

But the light came again and again, and its call was growing harder and harder to ignore.

They weren’t the only one who wanted to ignore it, but those of the same mind were only few. Most siblings would attempt at least once, and even the ones who failed and survived weren’t always entirely deterred. The light was just so beautiful, they would say. They wanted to be where the light always stood, to go where the light always went when it left them in the dark.

They didn’t want to live in the dark forever.

The bigger ones usually kept the smaller siblings from attempting the climb; they didn’t want the smaller ones to break so quickly. If a bigger one could get out, they could find a way to help the others from the top, so that even the smallest could someday escape. It was the safest option, the best way to ensure the least number of broken siblings.

But not every sibling listened.

There was one sibling, the same size as them, who wanted to make the climb. They wanted to reach the top more than anything and find a way for them and the light above to save the rest. The bigger ones warned them not to try, some even having to hold them back. They held them too. They were the same size; they wouldn’t be able to make the climb or survive the inevitable fall. They clung to their sibling so tightly, with all of the others, and pleaded they wait until they were bigger too.

They didn’t wait until they were bigger.

It happened when none of the siblings were looking, when they had all been distracted with burying the broken ones left by the light that cycle. They didn’t notice; none of them noticed. Not until it was too late.

The smaller sibling was already so high before a bigger one realized their absence. Somehow, they had ascended further than any of the smaller siblings had before, and they climbed higher still. Bigger ones had already begun to climb after them, no longer prompted by the light above but by the desperation to save one of their own.

And when they too joined in the climb, none of the bigger siblings paid them enough mind to stop them.

They hadn’t attempted the climb before, had started to decide they never would. But they climbed now with more fervor than they saw in most when under the light’s direct call. So many siblings had already broken that cycle. They couldn’t lose another, not when the light wasn’t even present to take blame.

It was a higher climb than they had realized. From below, the light looked like it hadn’t been so far out of reach, but the further they ascended, the greater the distance unfolded before them. Eventually they started to grow tired, and they knew the other siblings climbing above them were beginning to feel the weariness too, for after what felt like multiple cycles, bigger ones started to fall.

The smaller sibling didn’t relent. They climbed and they climbed and when the last bigger sibling fell, they still did not cease, as if entirely unaware that any had chased after them at all.

They didn’t know how much further they could go, but as long as their smaller sibling pressed on, so would they.

Not all siblings had fallen to the bottom, they started to notice. Some had landed on the platforms, broken from the impact of the unforgiving stone, while some had been impaled by the spikes, their masks and torn cloaks all that remained of them as the void of their bodies had long since returned to the lake below. They tried not to look at them as they climbed, tried not to think about all the siblings left alone up here where they would never be buried with the rest. They considered pushing their remains off the sides, tearing their masks and cloaks off of the spikes and letting them fall to the bottom for the others to reunite them with all the other broken siblings. But they had already passed so many, and they couldn’t afford to slow down. Their smaller sibling was still ascending.

Eventually, the light returned, and whatever weariness that brilliant sight brought them seemed only to ignite their sibling above more. The call was growing so loud, louder than they had ever thought sound could be, yet the light’s voice didn’t shout or wail like the tendrils of the void lake. It _whispered_ directly into them, until the only things they could hear were its words alone.

They didn’t think they liked its words.

The light was brighter now, too. Its brilliance almost blinding against the backdrop of the Abyss’s familiar dark. It was becoming harder to see where to reach their claws and land their jumps, but they couldn’t falter. Their smaller sibling was so near the top now, and if they somehow managed to make it, they weren’t sure if what awaited at the peak was any safer than the fall back down.

So, they pressed on.

The peak was so close. They could see the landing at the top, extended out above the pit of the Abyss, and their smaller sibling had nearly reached it. They had to hurry; it wouldn’t be long now. They had to reach their sibling before they reached that light. They would bring them back down into the dark, with their other siblings, and they would never let them attempt the climb again. They would keep them safe.

Their smaller sibling made the final jump to the top, and the light welcomed them.

They didn’t have far to go; they were only a few platforms away. The light’s whispers were so terribly loud that their mask throbbed with the sound of it. Its brilliance all but blinded them to the world around them, and when they made that final leap it was by sheer chance that their claws had reached a hold.

They had reached the top just like their sibling, but welcomed they were not.

The light was guiding their smaller sibling away, whispering to them as it ascended forward from the darkness behind. Their sibling was following, leaving them where they clung desperately over the Abyssal chasm below.

They needed to look back. Just once. Their sibling needed to look back _and see they had made it too._

They reached for them, and with every fiber of their void they cried out with the voices that only the dark seemed to parse. Their sibling stopped, turned away from that light for a moment, one just long enough for them to meet their pleading gaze.

 _Don’t leave us,_ they begged. _Please don’t leave us._

Their smaller sibling held their look for a moment, and then turned back towards the light, following it out of the darkness.

The Abyss sealed shut behind them.

And they fell.

* * *

The light never came back.

There was only the darkness now, that entrance they saw to the Abyss now sealing away any chance of something new. The light took a single sibling with it and shut the rest in without a hope for escape.

There was nothing left for them but darkness.

They had been lucky when they fell. The closest platform below them wasn’t far, it caught their fall without breaking them upon impact. Though void leaked from their carapace, and the world around them swam in and out of focus, their mask had remained intact.

They didn’t want to think about what would happen if it hadn’t.

It took them a long time to reach the bottom again, and when they did, they were met with the many firm embraces of their siblings greeting their return. None of them had expected any of them would make it back in one piece. For a moment, they hadn’t been sure themself either.

No more siblings attempted the climb, for with the Abyss sealed and that light forever gone, there was no longer a need. There would be no chance of getting out, not anymore.

They didn’t think they minded at first. The dark would take care of them, and with no more siblings breaking, they could all take care of each other. They didn’t need the light, or an escape. They were home, and their siblings would always be with them.

All save one.

For a while, this was alright. They no longer had anything to fear or cause worry; their home was finally a home. But it didn’t last. Nothing good ever seemed to last. Though no one ever made the climb anymore, siblings were starting to turn up broken anyways. None were sure at first how it happened – it hadn’t been the results of accidents as far as they could tell – but the truth eventually did become clear.

The void had grown restless, and it was beginning to lash out.

They realized what was wrong when a sibling returned from the lake and told them all of how the light that had contained it had gone out. The lake now thrashed and churned just like the smaller pools around it, and the shades of their broken siblings that had each been torn apart and returned to the void were reforming at the shore.

They were calling for their siblings to rejoin them.

The shades could be kept at bay, as long as all of the siblings stayed close. They decided it was best for everyone to stay in the central chamber, and if any were to wander off for any reason, to take at least two more siblings with them. The shades were easy to tear apart; they could hold their own if they all worked together.

For a long time, that is exactly what they did.

Cycles passed; they had tried to keep track at first, wanted to record the amount of time it had been since that lone sibling had been lost. But eventually so much time passed that cycles no longer seemed an adequate form of measurement. They were much too short. And as the time wore on, their siblings started to become weary.

None of them grew anymore. They hadn’t noticed any growth since the light had left for the last time. But if growth were the only sign of age, then there must have been another reason for siblings to start wearing down.

It was a long time before the first broke from this. They hadn’t even tripped. They had just simply sat down, refused to get up, and their mask suddenly broke when they made the smallest movement.

Many siblings broke like this.

Their numbers were dwindling. Between the occasional ones they would lose to hordes of shades, and the ones that were breaking without any discernible reason besides seemingly growing too tired to hold themselves together any longer, what had once been a considerable group was shrinking to something meager. It was becoming apparent that the Abyss wasn’t a safe home anymore, and the void wasn’t going to protect them.

If they wanted to survive, they would have to find a way out.

They had needed to make groups of siblings who could go and search. The ones who had grown weary or were still so small were told to stay close with the main group. They were still one of the smaller ones, but since they had survived the climb without serious injury, they had been allowed to join a search group. They were glad of this; even if before they had been afraid of leaving the Abyss, they could now see that it was no longer a safe place for their siblings. They wanted to help them find a way out.

They wanted to protect them.

The groups searched for a long time, seemingly scouring every inch of the Abyss. And yet no other exit could be found. Some debated making the climb, to try and see if there were exits higher up, but the daunting memory of bodies falling prevented any from putting that consideration into actuality.

Until there was no other choice, they would not make the climb again.

As time marched on and more siblings broke, the hope of finding an escape grew dimmer. Some siblings had given in to despair, flinging themselves into the spiked walls or bodily jumping into the pools of void near the lake. And those who were not ready to despair grew more and more hopeless, some eventually laying themselves down until their masks wore away too.

They wondered if the smaller sibling above had already broken as well.

But the despair did not last forever, and when the number of siblings had dwindled down to a mere six, hope was ignited again.

They all heard it at the same time, a call so like that of the light, but gentler, more welcoming, trickled into their minds. It beckoned them towards it, and when the siblings ventured forward towards the nearest edge, they found that which called them.

Light had broken into the Abyss, but it wasn’t quite the same as the light that would call from above. This light twisted and groaned and pushed its way forward, breaking through the once-believed impenetrable stone walls and leaving in their wake passages beyond the world they knew.

Something had given them an escape. And nothing would have stopped them from taking it.

They didn’t begin their journey through the passage immediately, deciding instead to attempt to bury as many of the remaining broken siblings as they could. There were so many now, the floor of the Abyss practically made of their shattered masks and shredded cloaks. But they could at least give them final farewells before setting off from their home. They owed their siblings this much.

When all the preparations had been made ready, the six began their journey into the world beyond, only giving brief glances behind to the home they were forever leaving.

If not for the void, then for the siblings who could no longer join them.

The passages made by those tendrils of light were small, but not enough so that the siblings could not navigate. Only one of the remaining six was a bigger sibling, and though they had to crawl on their hands and knees, they made no complaints.

But the further they went, the darker the passages became, and soon enough even for their void-composed eyes they could not see what lay ahead and what fell behind.

It took them too long to realize how dangerous this predicament truly was.

By the time they understood that the darkness would not relent, and that in order to stay close they would need to hold onto each other, three had already vanished. The remaining three called for them, searched as best they could for any adjacent tunnels that the other half might have traveled down, but after well over a cycle of searching it soon became clear those three would not be found.

More siblings had been lost.

The three that remained did not let go of one another until they found themselves stumbling out of the passage and into a place with light. Not quite a light like the ones that called, but bright enough it chased away the dark. They could now see that the two siblings who remained with them were the bigger one and one of the smaller ones like them. They tried once more to call for the other three, but the voices they had used that carried so well in the dark had seemed to grow faint in the presence of light, and if they were beginning to barely hear the siblings standing next to them, there would be no hope of the lost three hearing them as well.

So, they pressed on, with nothing more to give than a final mournful look behind.

Though the new world stretched out ahead with terrifying uncertainty, they told themself that no matter what, they would not lose another sibling. Only they three remained now, but they would hold onto the other two with every fiber of their being. It would be an apology to the countless ones lost; a promise to the two that remained at their side.

And a prayer in memory of the one that had left.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes:
> 
> 1 My take on the growth of the Vessels is that the presence of the Pale King is what allowed them to grow, so that's why the Vessels grew a little in the Abyss while he was still coming around. Not enough to get super tall like Hollow does later, but enough to begin that progress.  
> 2 Sealing the Abyss is what unsettled the void enough to convince the royal retainer to darken the lighthouse over the lake.  
> 3 The two Vessels with Ghost at the end are the Broken Vessel and the Greenpath Vessel. The three that got lost along the way were the three Vessels you can see in Nosk's lair.


End file.
